


Down in the depths

by everythingremainsconnected



Series: The Supernova and her Rowdy Boys [2]
Category: Dirk Gently's Holistic Detective Agency (TV 2016)
Genre: Existential Crisis, Gen, Martin is having a sad guy time being tortured, Project Blackwing (Dirk Gently), precious violent cinnamon rolls
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-10-24
Updated: 2017-10-24
Packaged: 2019-01-22 03:29:00
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 780
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12472452
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/everythingremainsconnected/pseuds/everythingremainsconnected
Summary: Trapped by Blackwing with a shaky grip on reality, Martin has an existential crisis.





	Down in the depths

The world was hazy. Quiet. Dull. Martin couldn’t hear Amanda, their supernova, his drummer girl, and the dark silence was a chasm in his head. Sometimes, down in the dark, he thought he’d dreamed her up entirely. The bursting sun with her beating heart was barely a memory, recalled properly for mere seconds when they were dragged up out of the frozen cold and just as quickly buried when the fog pressed in on them again. Down there in the dark she was never real, just another shadow from his head given form to torture him.

Through the icy fog his brothers rumbled. They knew better. Cross and Gripps didn’t bother about big questions like ‘what is reality’ and ‘where am I’. They knew Vogel and Amanda were missing and that things were _wrong_. The dark dulled their edges and their spark but the boys knew that Amanda and Vogel would be coming. Sadly Martin knew no such thing. His whole world had been upended by the brightest light he’d ever known and there hadn’t been enough time to rebuild, reorient himself, before everything was ripped away again. Certainty was gone, replaced by shadows and whispers that echoed around his head. Sometimes the rippling fog traced shapes that could have been long hair blowing in the wind and Martin wanted so desperately for it to be a memory and not a dream. 

Every now and again Martin heard the firefly. Felt the little flit of its wings against his head when it took on his favourite flavour. The firefly spent a lot of time being scared and Martin tried to howl his frustration - scared was delicious - but even when he could find the strength to stir, the dancing fog ate his every sound. Each rare brush of the firefly gave Martin a jolt; in those moments he knew what was missing and nothing tasted as good as Amanda. Plain and simple. For painful heartbeats the phantom of her burned Martin’s tongue. 

The five of them belonged, they _fit_ , and the distance was like a knife in his side and his head and his heart. That surprised him most of all; that something could beat within him in response to another when he had assumed his soul long-dead and gone was… strange. The moments of truly _remembering_ Amanda were the best and worst of his life. 

The last time they’d been dragged up from the mist had been the worst. The three of them were all up at the same time and the physical distance between them was painful. The scientist asked something, Martin could hardly remember, but just as he was laughing and being returned to the cold - the light of Amanda had exploded behind his eyes and across his skull. One powerful flash of _her_ that was real, so fiery and raw, it ripped the air from Martin’s lungs. He couldn’t even scream before the darkness took him. 

Back in the fog, with misty cold that felt like death laying against his skin, doubt crept in. Had it even been real? There was no light, no sun, no drums, down in the depths. There was nothing but darkness and need, a burning, bone-deep _hunger_. It dragged at them, claws sunk deep, pulling them further down each time. It was the kind of hunger that monsters couldn’t come back from. The kind of hunger that drove them away from humanity. It did nothing but get worse. 

Weeks or days later, there was no way to know, the three of them were dragged up out of the fog and a shock ripped through them to wake their bodies. As soon as the haze was blown away away Martin felt Amanda, all heat and fire in his head, and he grinned. The three of them talked madly, properly awake and kind of alive and definitely happy about the former, all of them buying time. Amanda and Vogel were coming for them and Martin hoped it was soon. _Hope_. The delightful flicker in his chest, the spark flaring to Cross and Gripps, was _warm_ in his body that was so, so cold. 

The military goon sent Gripps and Cross back down into the fog and Martin stared. It was definitely him - the moron who had tried to hurt Amanda - and there he was, all alone, with no more goons to back him up. Hunger clawed at Martin’s body and if he was going to escape he’d need his strength. Besides, someone had to make sure the jerk couldn’t hurt them again once they got out. 

Fear rolled off the boy like a red rag to a starving bull. 

This was gonna be _fun_.

**Author's Note:**

> I am dying to find out how our precious violent cinnamon rolls get out of Blackwing and get back together! Here's hoping we don't have to wait too long. [I'm on Tumblr](https://everythingremainsconnected.tumblr.com/), come say hi :)


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